


Drunk on Shadows

by Shekiyah



Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: F/M, Power Dynamics, Power Play, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:03:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27122914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shekiyah/pseuds/Shekiyah
Summary: “John Shelby,” you whispered with authority, watching his eyes flicker at his name. “I said no. Be good.”He pressed against your hand like a dog pulling his leash, testing the boundaries. Your fingers wrapped his jaw and you pressed harder until he stilled. His eyes traveled your face, down your neck, your chest and back up. You waited until his eyes met yours again.“Tell me what you want, (Y/N),” he breathed. “I’ll do it.”
Relationships: John Shelby/Reader
Kudos: 28





	Drunk on Shadows

You sat near the fire and watched the flames flicker in the dark as the others talked around you. You were exhausted, every last nerve you had felt raw, but John's bright eyes were not easily ignored. You let him lead you to the bonfire and surrounded yourself with music and empty chatter. 

John bounced around the gathering, talking and cheering with everyone one by one before he repeated his rounds. Johnny Dogs was loud and rowdy as always. He would circle the party and clap the backs of men or flirt with a woman. Bottles passed around to keep lips loose and tongues wagging. 

You felt like a bump on a log as you watched everyone. You kept to the fringes of the party, watching everyone with a calmness that subconsciously pushed people away without being unfriendly. You didn't have it in you to shelf your troubles from your mind and chat like your head wasn't clouded. 

"Love?" John said as his hand rested on your shoulder. "Are you alright? You don't look like you're enjoying yourself."

You smiled weakly up at him. 

"I'm fine, really." 

**"Why are you lying to me?"** He frowned and leaned down to kiss the top of your head. 

"Your mind has been a box of bees all week," he murmured into your hair as he reached for your hand. "You really should relax and enjoy yourself."

He stepped in front of you and his eyes lit up as a mischievous grin split across his face and he pulled you to your feet. You giggled as you tried to tug yourself away but his grin only widened as he wrapped his arms around your waist and spun you around. You laughed and tried to hold on once he lifted you in the air and spun you around again and again until you were dizzy. 

When he sat you back down he grabbed your arms and urged you to run around in circles with the fire between you, going faster and faster like children. He let go of one of your arms to spin you and crashed you into his chest to fall in a heep of laughter on his lap on the ground.

"That's my girl," he murmured as the laughter died down. "There you are."

He tucked a piece of hair behind your ear before he kissed your cheek. You sighed and melted against him. 

"Thank you," you said softly as you patted his arm around your waist. "Sometimes I get lost in my head, but you always know how to pull me out."

"That's what I'm for, love," he said with a sad smile as he squeezed you tighter. "You're just like my bloody brother sometimes. You get lost in there," he tapped your temple, "but I can find you when you need it. I can do that much."

John was known as the carefree brother, the Shelby that came back from the war without a mark, but you knew different. All three had their ways with coping, and John was like Tommy in his need for control, but his execution was entirely different. 

Tommy ruled others with an iron fist. He demanded allegiance and rules to be followed without question. He demanded immediate results. He was king, but his head would cloud and become dark and it affected his rule. 

John never showed anyone how dark his mind was or when he was lost in worry. The mantle he picked up had been the jester of the brothers and he took it seriously. He was the relief in the pain and no matter how dark his own mind was he would drag others from their sorrows or at least not be another burden. Many people thought he had no ambition or thoughts of his own; a jester with a violent streak when Tommy needed another soldier, or a lover boy that flirted with every woman who breathed in his direction, but you knew different. His friendly demeanor wasn't exactly an act, but it wasn't as shallow as most thought. It was just as much an armor as Tommy's brains or Arthur's violence. It was tactical.

You shuddered in his arms as you realized the implication of comparing you to his brother. 

"You cold, love?" He asked as he rubbed your arms. "We're already nearly on top of the fire."

"You're sweet," you murmured as you turned to kiss his cheek, cupping the other in your hand. "What did I do to deserve you?"

"Well you're the smartest woman I've ever met for one," he smiled. "And you're bloody gorgeous to boot."

You giggled as he twisted and pinned you to the ground, his arms holding his lopsided grin above you. His eyes held a glint that caught your breath. 

"I think I'm sick of sharing you for the night," his tone was cocky as his hand pushed your skirts higher.

You giggled, squirming beneath him to catch his hand. 

"People are watching," you whispered as your brows raised with your struggle. "You can't just take me in front of God and everyone."

"I'm sure they've all averted their eyes by now," John teased as he leaned forward to steal another kiss. "Johnny Dogs is no different than a cat in the room."

You gasped and pushed on his chest until you both were sitting up. His want emboldened you. His eyes were playful but quickly filling with lust, pupils blown out and drooping half lidded. Your hand found his chin and held him from meeting your lips with his. 

"John Shelby," you whispered with authority, watching his eyes flicker at his name. "I said no. Be good."

He pressed against your hand like a dog pulling his leash, testing the boundaries. Your fingers wrapped his jaw and you pressed harder until he stilled. His eyes traveled your face, down your neck, your chest and back up. You waited until his eyes met yours again. 

"Tell me what you want, (Y/N)," he breathed. "I'll do it."

You felt a jolt go through you at his words. He was pliant in your hand, his hungry eyes wandering your frame when you weren't forcing him to meet your eye. You were surrounded by people but his eyes never left you. It made you bold. It made you confident.

"You want me?" You asked as you lifted his chin higher and curled your lip in a half smile. 

"You know I do," he matched your smile, challenging what you were to do next. 

You leaned forward and bushed your lips along his neck, blowing cool air into his ear until his head tilted up from your hand. 

"Then come find me in the dark," you whispered before you playfully licked the outline of his earlobe. "Say your goodbyes, count to ten, and come find me. That's an order, soldier."

He shook himself out of your hand and looked at you, his eye wide for a moment before the lust took over, dulling the surprise and smoothing his expression to a lazy smile. 

"Yes," he hummed. "I can do that."

His hand grazed your calf, pushing the skirts up again. You  _ tsked _ and his warm hand stopped cold along your outer thigh in mid squeeze, a sheepish grin along his face.

"You only touch when I say you can, John," you chastised as you pulled his hand from your leg. "Do you understand?"

"But I want you now," He whined under his breath.

"Soon, love," you soothed with a kiss. 

You stood up and dusted your dress off. You walked out of the ring of wagons that wrapped around the fire without any goodbyes. The cool night air smelled sweet.

Most people knew you didn't tell anyone you were leaving unless John was on your arm, parading you around to say his own goodbyes. He liked to warn everyone that the fun was leaving and they would have to entertain themselves. You liked to slip away into the shadows without a warning, the same way you liked to appear.

Outside of the ring the world was pitch black except for the sliver of moon that lit up the clear sky. You made your way to the tree line, your steps soft on open pasture. Once you met the trees, you looked behind you and heard John's roar of laughter and shadows flickering among the camp. Anytime now. 

As if on cue, John's shape stopped between two wagons, his coat squaring his shape, but you'd know his shadow anywhere. 

"Go get your girl, John," you heard Johnny cackle. "She's a right treat in the moonlight, innit she?"

John immediately shot for the trees and you jumped at his suddenness. You ran further in as the leaves crackled underfoot. You huffed as you ran deeper into the trees, knowing it wasn't a thick forest and you'd find the other side quickly if you didn't slow down. 

You smiled, a plan forming loosely in your mind. You chirped, hearing John stop to listen for you. 

"(Y/N)," he called, "Where are you, love?"

You paused, listening to the crash of the underbrush, and hid behind a massive tree. You chirped again and moved stealthily among the trees, stopping and calling along the way. You heard John grow exasperated as he followed you, a wisp leading him farther into the shadows. Always out of reach.

You stayed behind a tree and heard his footsteps trudge through the leaves closer to you. When he was just about to walk past your tree, you stepped in front of him with your finger on his lips before you stepped back. His face scrunched and he went to take a step forward but you raised your hand to stop him. 

"Stay," you said and immediately giggled at ordering John like a dog, but he froze at your words and you couldn't help but feel the rush. 

"You're not to touch me unless I say you can," you reminded him, growing braver. "You won't get what you want unless you play nice."

John put his foot down and shuffled anxiously in place, but he didn't step forward. 

"(Y/N)," he pressed.

You gave him a look, daring him to ignore your demands, as you undid the fastens and pulled your dress over your head to reveal your thin slip in the slices of moonlight cutting through the branches above. His eyes danced over you. 

He groaned, low and heavy; his hand instinctively flexing at his side. You threw your dress at him, the fabric hitting him in the face as you took another step back. It fell to the ground at his feet and you lifted a hand to motion him to follow you. 

There's power in it; in coaxing him forward, in his bright eyes that begged you, in his outstretched hand that hesitated just before he touched you because he knew you told him he couldn't. And you yearned for that power. You needed it to anchor you and he knew that. 

You led him backward to the edge of the trees, the knowledge that a pond was just on the other side. He followed you, two steps behind as if you would scold him for getting closer, or maybe he would break your rules if temptation was so close. You could tell John was getting restless, pent up as the rules stopped him from what he wanted to do. The delayed gratification far too delayed for his liking. 

You stopped right at the edge before the clearing and John stepped directly in front of you, his nose almost touching yours and his whiskey breath on your lips. 

"You've been a soldier," you challenged as you practically breathed his air. 

You weren't sure whether it was the whiskey on his breath or the surge you got from making him listen, but you felt drunk, tipsy with lust. You couldn't see his eyes in the dark, hidden under his cap, and it annoyed you that his mouth was parted, panting for you, but you couldn't see his blown out pupils. You needed more.

"You follow Tommy's orders without so much as a blink," you taunted as you ran your hand up his arm, your fingers danced along his chest before you smacked his cap off of his head. 

John didn't move as his cap flied off his head. Energy rolled off of him thick as the air before a storm breaks. You looked into his eyes, searching for an ounce of challenge, a modicum of his ever-present authority issues, but you found nothing but want. 

He sat on the edge of your words waiting for an order, a way to please you, to make you happy. A way to close the gap. 

"You say you want me, John," you whispered and leaned into him, dragging your lips up his neck to blow into his ear. "You so sure? I think that pretty thing by the campfire would have already let you between her legs. You'd have her following you around like a lost puppy before the sun rises. Her eyes were following you the entire night. She was green when you kissed me."

He cocked an eyebrow as he leaned away to look down at you, his eyes aflame. 

"Why don't you find her, John?" You pressed. "She'd be a mess for you."

His hand raised, ever so slowly, until it was twitching beside your face. 

"Because I'm a mess for  _ you _ ," he rasped. "Say the word, I'll happily make you scream loud enough to send her to her grave in envy."

You smiled as you stepped back. 

"Take your coat off," you said, "I'll need a place to dry after our dip."

"Our?"

He shrugged his coat off as he followed you to the water's edge and laid his coat just far enough from the bank so the earth beneath it was dry. 

"Would you rather stand on the bank and watch?" You teased as you kicked off your boots. "Then stand there like a good boy."

You walked backward in the water, knowing the cold water would make your slip translucent. You gasped as the water reached your hips and you splashed at John, his jaw locked as he watched you submerge yourself. You reached up, holding your hair above the water as you dipped to your shoulders and a growl rumbled from the shoreline like thunder. 

"I'm growing tired of your games, love," he rumbled. 

"Games?" You feigned confusion, stepping forward up into the air. Your slip clung to every curve, every last inch of your cold skin, illuminating you in the dark. "What games?"

He groaned, shuffling in place before he went to reach down--

"John Shelby don't you dare," you said as you stepped in front of him and grabbed his wrist. "No one's allowed to touch you but me."

"Let me earn it," he rasped as he twisted to pin your wrist in his grip. He leaned into you, his breath trailing up your neck, your ear, your jawline. "Tell me what you want, love."

You smiled as you reached and he groaned in your hand, the faintest touch a wildfire on his skin. You felt him rigged as you playfully mocked his moan back to him in his ear.

"Make me scream, John."


End file.
